Out of Touch
by Lupineleigh
Summary: DW explains to Morgana what he saw while he was unconscious... Direct sequel to "My Daughter, My Life."


This occurs the morning after "My Daughter, My Life" and answers some questions raised near the conclusion.

Sunlight seeped in through the narrow windows of Darkwing Tower, slowly creeping across the floor to the three ducks huddled on the couch. Eek and Squeak, Morgana's bats, left her coiffure to seek out a darker sleeping spot. Archie, Morgana's beloved spider, grumbled and crawled to the back of the couch.

Morgana herself squinted in the brightness and conjured a set of drapes to cover the windows. Too late. Gosalyn was stirring. Within moments, all of them were awake.

Feeling her dad yawn and stretch, Gosalyn greeted him with a hug. His flinch reminded all of them of his condition. For Gosalyn, the reminder came even more abruptly as her finger found a hole on his shoulder blade during the momentary embrace. She let go instantly, her face gloomy. Darkwing smiled apologetically.

"Don't worry, Kiddo. It wasn't you." Reaching out to firmly return the hug, Darkwing explained. "I just stretched a little too hard."

He gingerly flexed the stitches in his shoulder, courtesy of Quackerjack's clown. The bandages he was still wearing protected his other, more severe, injuries.

"Too bad Chuckles had to ruin another suit," Darkwing muttered, shrugging off his coat and poking a finger in the bullet hole. "At this rate, I'll need a tailor to catch up with this past week."

He was referring to yesterday's events, when he'd had to abandon a ruined costume for a fresh one prior to rescuing Gosalyn, and a couple days before that, when he'd taken several plunges in Audobon Bay. That, in addition to soot from Megavolt and grime from the pier. This was the fourth costume that required either deep cleaning or mending. And he only had six on hand.

Not willing to dwell on either the past events, or her dad's wardrobe, Gosalyn hopped off the couch.

"I'll see if Launchpad's up yet. It's his turn to pick out breakfast."

Morgana, having finished straightening her hair, stopped Gosalyn with a raised hand.

"Wait. I'll make breakfast. You can set the table and get out the juice. But first, brush your teeth, Darling."

Gosalyn stuck out her tongue.

"Yuck! Mint-flavored orange juice." Seeing Morgan's scrunched brow, she hurriedly changed her course of direction to steer toward the bathroom. "Can't wait," Gosalyn added.

Darkwing raised his brows in surprise.

"How did you do that? I have to practically wrestle her into doing anything I say. Could this be some sign of residual amnesia still lingering in the shape of my charming charge?"

Morgana smiled and put a hand on Darkwing's sound shoulder.

"She's fine, Dark. She just needs to burn off some nervous energy right now."

"Oh."

"Speaking of which, how are you feeling?" Morgana turned Darkwing around to face her, tilting his chin up to peer into his eyes. "Your next dose of medicine is due in forty minutes…"

Seeing something in his posture as an answer, she conjured a cart set with a tea service, plus toothbrush, paste, and a rinse cup. Darkwing smirked when he saw the latter objects.

"What, is my morning breath that bad?"

Discreetly, he turned away and checked by puffing on his hand. Morgana chuckled.

"It's not that, Dark. It's to set an example. I told Gosalyn to brush her teeth. You should do the same. Gosalyn knows I don't make up rules for my convenience. I live by them."

"Well so do I. It's just that…" Darkwing started, but Morgana cut him off.

"No excuses, Drake."

Giving in, he obediently picked up the brush and paste, turning his back to spare his girlfriend from seeing him with foam on his beak. When he was ready, she pressed a cup of tea in his hands and teleported to the kitchenette platform, setting about making a balanced breakfast.

Launchpad woke to the smells of brewing coffee and omelets and cheerfully greeted everyone.

Morgana welcomed him with a plate already heaping with some of his favorite dishes.

"Oh boy," he grinned appreciatively. Turning to Drake, who had just finished changing into his civilian clothes, Launchpad leaned over to say, not too softly. "We oughta make breakfast like this every weekend."

Drake colored, not sure how to respond.

Morgana flashed him a smile and finished setting everything out.

Gosalyn appeared, juice and milk in hand, ready to serve everyone a beverage before sitting down.

Drake thanked her and looked at his gathered family with warmth. He wasn't what he would call a religious guy, but he silently offered thanks for this unexpected and welcome gift.

Eek and Squeak hovered at their shoulders, chirping for bites of egg. Gosalyn handed out morsels readily and Launchpad won their undivided attention after offering them a piece of sausage. Morgana gently warned him that spiced food wasn't good for her pets. Archie mumbled something undecipherable from her lap.

After eating, everyone pitched in with the cleanup. They scrubbed the counters and stove top, washed dishes, and dried and put everything away. By the time they finished, the kitchenette practically glowed. Drake beamed proudly and clapped Launchpad' and Gosalyn's shoulders, grateful nothing had been broken, including tempers. It was the best morning they'd ever had together, thanks in no small part to Morgana and her pets, who had rescued any imperiled plate or mug when such slipped from damp fingers.

Gosalyn smiled and tactfully asked Launchpad to take her to the video store to pick up some cool flicks to watch for the weekend. By this, of course, she meant monster and alien movies, with a strong possibility of zombies and chainsaw massacres being added to the mix.

Launchpad gulped, not quite willing to expose his mind to such terrors, but he agreed. He needed to return the stuff they'd already watched, and there wasn't going to be much on TV during the weekend anyway.

Drake forked over enough for four movies and waved them off. Despite Gosalyn's begging for movie and scifi channels, Drake preferred paying for the cheapest satellite service possible. Tossing a few bucks on rentals seemed a small price to pay for sanity during the few hours he spent living a normal life each day. (Although he privately wouldn't mind having a few hundred channels to watch, either.)

Once the pair departed via the spinning chairs, Morgana commanded Drake's attention. Cupping her hands around his feathery cheeks, she stared into his eyes for a moment in silence before taking his hands.

"I need to know, Dark," she started, her voice nervous. "What happened when you were unconscious yesterday?"

He gulped.

"Do I have to answer now?"

"I would prefer it, while it's still fresh in your memory. Even though I was working off the top of my head without the proper preparation for an advanced healing spell, my magic should have at least gotten a response from you."

She frowned at the memory of Darkwing's pained reaction, but chose not to voice it. She was unwilling to color his memories with her own observations. Her mouth quivered when she tried finishing what she was going to say.

"But I couldn't even find you. It was...like I was "ordinary."" Morgana shuddered at the thought, before continuing. "If my magic is failing, I need to take action now before it's needed again."

Drake led her to his extensive library and directed her to the plush chair while he roved through the shelves, stalling for time. He lifted a book with his sprained wrist and nearly dropped it. Morgana rose and took it for him, glancing curiously at the plain brown cover.

**Defying Physics**, by _Prof. J. Waddlemeyer_.

"Gosalyn's grandfather…?" Morgana asked a little incredulously.

"No. It's actually her great-grandfather's. He was considered an eccentric by his peers, but he was highly esteemed by some higher ups. He's probably the reason Gosalyn's grandfather worked with Homeland Defense. Following in his father's footsteps…"

Morgana flipped through the yellowed pages curiously.

"Does this relate to what happened?"

"No. Not really. But I thought I remembered seeing something near the conclusion that described a vision I had. Or maybe it was another one of these…"

Drake pulled several voluminous tomes from the shelves, tossing some on the floor, disregarding others. Morgana picked up a handful of hopefuls and browsed the titles. _Ghost Encounters, Supernatural or Super Science?, Visions of the Hereafter, The Voice in All Creation_, Holy Bible…(Author's note: the first four are made-up titles) Morgana frowned and stacked them by the chair.

Drake finally came down from the ladder and slumped in the unoccupied chair, sighing defeatedly.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Morg. I was so intent on saving Gos, I hardly remember anything else…"

Morgana put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Just walk me through what happened…"

Drake briefly described his vantage point during the case: the times when Quackerjack held Gos hostage; Bushroot saving her; Gosalyn helping Bushroot when Quackerjack tried to shoot him; and Darkwing's desperate leap to protect Gosalyn from the projectile headed straight for her. He recalled feeling the bullet hit him below the shoulder blade and feeling immense pressure from the impact. So much pressure, he had nearly blacked out and had only vague memories of those moments between his leap and his landing.

The heavy bandage he was wearing over a patched-up bullet hole in his side constricted around him, squeezing the breath from him. Sparks flashed in his vision. Upon impact with the floor, his sprained wrist wrenched, increasing the pain and dizziness. His head hit the brick wall with stunning force; the bandages squeezed tighter; and gradually he felt nothing. In short, he'd suffered shock from his injuries and a concussion. Nothing to be unexpected… Right?

Before Morgana could prompt him, Drake's eyes focused in the distance and he continued his story.

He'd had flashbacks while he was down. All of them adventures from recent years. Times like admonishing Gosalyn for going out as Quiverwing or tagging along with him. The first time he met the feisty little red head when she gut punched him on the Ratcatcher. The same wild child handing him a helmet out of concern for his safety. The stressful first anniversary of her grandfather's death, watching his joyful child fight tears all day. And the most painful recent moment of his life: her looking up into his face and screaming in terror because she didn't remember him, or herself.

All these memories had kept Darkwing occupied for a while with raging emotions and fears, but as he dwelled on his love for Gosalyn, he felt something shift in his own awareness. Pain returned, ripping away everything else in existence. Darkwing had tried to escape it, but darkness blotted out everything, making retreat impossible. He felt overwhelming hopelessness.

Drake swallowed hard, sweat standing out on his brow. Morgana dabbed his face with her scarf and reminded him to relax. He was safe with her now. Nothing was happening to him. Drake squeezed her hand appreciatively and gathered his courage.

"Like I said, I was locked in darkness with no escape from the pain. Then… something appeared in front of me. An apparition of sorts. I saw a white face. Just for a moment. His hair looked like it was floating around him and…those eyes! They were the strangest eyes I've ever seen!"

Drake trembled slightly, his own eyes vacant with memories.

"They were glowing, like hot coals and they were bright red! I didn't see a pupil or iris or even eyelashes… Just blazing red… I hate to admit it, even to you, but I was terrified! I shook right down to my toes.

"The face was gone in an instant. And then, as I came around from the shock, I saw light gathering around me and…my fear was quickly replaced by calm. A deep tranquility I've…" Drake looked apologetically at Morgana, afraid of hurting her feelings. "never felt before… The darkness faded into a warm golden glow and I felt like someone was draping their arms over my shoulders.

"Someone spoke, and it sounded like it was coming from inside my head. I guess, technically, it was in my head, since I didn't actually go anywhere, heh heh. But it said, "Don't be afraid, for I am with you." Then I felt a weight on my shoulder like a hand was resting on it. I actually looked. I didn't see anything, but I felt the warmth and weight of it.

"Then the light started fading and my shoulder felt like it was on fire. I woke up. I found myself fully functional with an exceptionally clear mind. I felt Gosalyn's presence, so I pulled myself together. The rest, you know!"

Morgana frowned.

"Wait, go back a little. You said you were overwhelmed with pain and darkness after the flashbacks. Do you think that you were reacting to the concussion... or your memories..." she broke off, hesitant to continue. "Or an outside force?"

"I'm not sure, Honeybunch. I think it was an outside force. I can't imagine my own mind giving me a jolt like that. What I do know is that the owner of that face rescued me somehow and protected me. The pain was bearable when I woke up…"

Morgana pursed her lips. She had feared as much. Her impromptu healing spell had hurt him. She swore to herself she would research everything she could on healing when she got home. She would never be caught unprepared again, and she was about to say as much when something started beeping.

It came from the computer console above them. Drake and Morgana exchanged glances and hurried up the steps as the S.H.U.S.H. eagle and shield emblem appeared on the monitor. Drake threw on a spare costume just in case it was a live feed and pressed the call button. Dr. Sara Bellum appeared, cheerful as ever.

"Good morning, Darkwing! I hope you're enjoying your first day of vacation! I reviewed my writeup on the Tuffguard's performance yesterday and, after experimenting all night, I think I have an answer for your...ahem...statement.

"You see, the Tuffguard coating was designed to react to chemical output. A rush of adrenaline and fear is supposed to make it swell to allow maximum air intake. Adrenaline, combined with endorphins and an increase in serotonin production created by injury are supposed to make the Tuffguard compact and harden to resist impact… Kind of like an onboard computer...

"For the ordinary person wearing a Tuffguard coated article of clothing, they feel impact, temporary disorientation, and perhaps a bit of muscle lockup. Perfectly normal, considering most of this is caused by the body reacting to shock and adrenaline. With you, however, the Tuffguard Shield does more than shrink or harden… it actually increased your endorphin levels and drastically decreased your adrenaline production."

"No kidding," Darkwing muttered.

"Apparently the combination of shock, plus physical and emotional trauma, made your nervous system shut down. During this comatose state, your body jumpstarted itself, boosting recovery time enough for you to rebound. On the downside, you were unconscious in the middle of a fight. But I think, with a few adjustments and some electrode attachments to monitor vital signs, my invention will be well on its way to a Nobel prize!"

"You mean I was your guinea pig?" Darkwing shouted, but Morgana pointed to a timer on the screen. It was a prerecorded message, which meant Dr. Bellum couldn't hear his outburst. The recording continued.

"When you feel up to it, I'd love to hear more details and start on the adjustments. We certainly wouldn't want a repeat of last night, would we?" She chuckled. "In addition, I'd like to ask a few more questions. Like, how comfortable is it to sleep in? Do the bandages flex enough or are they too stiff?

"The beauty of this formula is that it can be used on any textile, fabric or plastic. Just a few layers of spray on the top and reverse of the article makes it impenetrable. Someday we might even use it on buildings and aircraft so we'll never have to worry about natural and human disasters again! Oh ho ho ho! I can't wait! Toodles!" Dr. Bellum signed off with another delighted chuckle.

Darkwing glared at the screen.

"Of all the ways to be blindsided and betrayed by a brainiac mad scientist…"

"Dark…" Morgana warned.

He looked at her, startled.

"But, but…" Seeing Morgana shake her head, Darkwing sighed and removed his mask. "Oh never mind. I'll let it go for now… But, the next time I'm at S.H.U.S.H., I'm going to have a pretty looong talk with those people about experimental prototypes and hero handling…"

Morgana stroked Archie after the spider crawled up on her shoulder. Eek and Squeak yawned and settled in her hair. Morgana glanced out the window and sighed, removing the drapes she had magically placed there with a snap of her fingers. All of them grimaced in the light.

"Yeow. Sure is bright today," Darkwing commented, tugging his hat back on to shadow his eyes.

"Yes, and sunlight is one thing that doesn't go well with my complexion," Morgana murmured.

"Sure it does," Darkwing smiled. "You're radiant in it."

"You think so?" she produced a compact mirror and patted her hair. "Hmm. Not bad. But my eyes are made for dim and dreary days. Give my regards to Gosalyn and Launchpad…"

Before Darkwing could come up with a reply, Morgana caressed his beak and kissed him.

"See you later, my darling Dark…"

"Goodbye… Morg…" Darkwing waved dreamily as she disappeared via teleportation.

He wandered over to the spinning chairs and returned home. Who knew what the day held in store? For now, Darkwing Duck was on medical leave and the afternoon, like any other normal Saturday, would belong to Gosalyn when she got back with Launchpad. Drake smiled as he shed his costume for the day and changed into a loose shirt. As long as he had friends and family, he had everything he needed in life and more. Plus an ethereal promise that he'd never be alone.

Shortly after combing his feathers and gathering the laundry, Drake heard the garage door open. His smile broadened and he promptly headed downstairs to greet his family. Let the day begin!


End file.
